Savages (AHS: Roanoke)

Chapter 1

"Uh, Mr. Loring?" I heard his nurse ask, reaching for his plate, "would you like some more mashed potatoes?"

Slap! He hit her forearm pretty hard, and she was almost wearing his food.

"Woman! D-Don't you be touchin' my plate while I'm speakin'!" the old man snapped. "Didn't y-you learn any manners?!"

"Sir, I—"

"Uncle Charlie, please!" Lucas, my mother's brother, said as he stood and approached the patriarch's wheelchair at the head of the table, leaning over and touching his shoulder. "She's just tryin' to help. Don't be all angry at 'er."

"Don't be tellin' me what to do!" Uncle Charlie snapped.

"With all due respect," my uncle began softly, "we already went to church. There's a time 'nd place for the word o' God, and it is not at a peaceful family lunch."

"You're vile!" the old, rigid man said, pointing his finger and wagging it weakly. "God is always watchin', even when you're back is turned! Act in his name, or you'll be damned to burn in hell for all'o eternity!"

He just got louder. This is why I thought was I did about him. It got to the point where the nurse had to wheel him out. She also gave him a relaxant to calm him down. When he was like that, he could ramble off Bible verses until our ears fell off.

Well, that all ended shortly after. Within the next week, he had only gotten weaker, closer to the end. Not all of us in the family got to say goodbye – I was one of them who did. His nurse called my house, asking for me. Me, of all people.

"Is Cole there?" she had asked.

"It's he," I replied.

"Mr. Lorin' wants to see you," the nurse said.

"Why me?" I asked.

"He didn't say anythin' as to why, but do hurry."

And we hung up. I got my jacket on, got into my truck, and drove there, walking the long way down to the actual mansion on the acres-wide plantation through the designated path to the grand front door. By the time I got in, I looked at the clock and saw it was close to 8 in the evening. The nurse caught sight of me and led me up to the master bedroom. She opened the door, and announced my presence. I noticed Uncle Charlie hooked to some kind of life support with some tubing in his nose and an IV line in his hand. I was still confused, why did he want me here?

"W-Woman...leave us," I heard the man say weakly. He never failed to treat women horribly, even on his deathbed. The nurse just obeyed, shutting the door behind her. I looked at the door as it closed, but I heard the shrill, weak voice of Uncle Charlie.

"C'mere, ol' boy," he said, bringing his hand up and gesturing me over.

I walked over slowly, and peered down at the sallow, wrinkled skin of the patriarch on my mother's side. His eyes were tired, the bags underneath them weighted his face, and the tubing in his nose seemed to move irregularly as he tried to breathe.

"Uh...Uncle Charlie, why am I here?" I questioned.

"Ah, Cole," he said, gathering enough breath to continue speaking. "You're a...w-wholesome fella. Y-You look like...m-my David."

"David?" I asked.

Then it donned on me – David was my fourth-cousin who died in a car crash during the '80s. Apparently he wasn't a saint, either. He spoke about him as if he were evil and depraved, whenever he came up in conversation. For all I knew, David was condemned just for being human. I had heard horror stories about David being abused when he was younger – Uncle Charlie would've used the Bible to justify it all, too, and get away with it like nothing ever happened. Sad. Darn shame.